In Cold Blood
by Helenic-Badass
Summary: A rogue amarine travels through the endless halls of Black Mesa, ultimately discovering a conspiracy he could never have dreamed of.
1. Default Chapter

I was surrounded.....surrounded by darkness, by fear, by neglect. Life had no meaning. This didn't even feel like life. It was death with no ending. The darkness and foreboding was there, but I wasn't dead. This was neither life nor death. To this day I'm not sure what it was or what it is, in some way, some strange way it was my only way out and my doorway in. It was more than survival, I'm not sure what, but something. With my thoughts leaving me with a feeling of deep anxiety I grasped my M-16 and slowly got up. My clip was full. I would need it. I snuck into a corridor, showing its age by the decaying walls and the rust that devoured it. I heard movement in the vents. A gunshot ran out like a resounding bell. I fired at the vents, a slightly injured figure lay at my feet, a pool of blood streaming out from him. He was a stout man, dressed in blue body Armour and with a helmet of the same color. His mustache was unkept, his hair, or lack thereof the same way. He lay on the floor struggling to breathe. clinging on to dear life. Soon, before he could acknowledge my presence, the coldness of death grasped him. He stared into my direction, his eyes ever watching. He was dead. I had seen many men die, some comrades, some enemies, but I had never seen a man die like that. Such emotion, such practiced bravado, it chilled my soul to look at him. I walked over, resting my hand on his face and sliding down his eyelids over his pupils, wide with questions. Why? I almost shuddered, but, remembering my mission I kicked him aside. No one had shone compassion to me, why should I show it to them? I cannot escape this god-forsaken place, but I can try to last as long as I can. Throwing my thoughts aside I gazed intently at the open ventilation shaft. There seemed to be nothing of dangerous properties in the contents of the shaft but things are never as they appear in Black Mesa, they is always a catch, always something. A loop, if you will. Too bad I found! this out a bit late. I marched away, just like a real marine I thought, just like a real fuckin' marine.I heard much of the same movement from the previous encounter, the same silent slinking and finally the foot steps of an assassin, only assassins could hope to accomplish such silence.The sound was indistinguishable. I heard the silenced shots of a gun once more. Two bullets tore through my flesh, trying to escape through the other end of my back, they had narrowly missed my spine. I fell to one knee, gasping in pain, grinding my teeth. I had to overcome the pain, I rolled to the right, hugging the wall in the corridor, at that point, instinct and training kicked in. I quickly grabbed hold of my M-16, and pointed the laser in the direction of the coward who shot me when my back was turned. I fired three times, all the bullets found themselves in the bastard's neck. He grabbed his throat, and he fell back on to the ground. He was staying there. I limped towards him,noticing ! the scientist in his grasp, bound and gagged, he feebly attempted to converse, all I did was blatently fire a bullet between his eyes, I don't no what had overcome me, but my brief indulging of blood lust had taken two lives, one innocent, feeling discusted with myself I limped near the assassins' body to closely examine him, clad in black with no regard to human life. But, as I creeped closer I noticed that this wasn't a man, instead it was a woman. I stared in bewilderment and disbelief. Staring at the ceiling hiding beneath the contents of her black mask, layed a woman. A masked coward,and a criminal. I had killed a woman, it was the equivalent of killing one's self at my standards, but I had to set my own feelings aside.However I couldn't remove the feeling of dishonor that overwhelmed me. This was business, this was a mission. I would have to murder in cold blood, and set aside any sort of feeling of human decency.My conscience warned me, my karma followed suit, but I didn't give in, I proceeded with the task at hand. I made sure there was no one left in the vent. I aimed my rifle and fired a grenade from my M-79 slug attached to my M-16, the seemingly earth-shaking explosion emitted fire all the way into the duct, somewhat like a volcano, a violent stream of fire blasted open all other vents, it seemed that Black Mesa had a quite elaborate ventilation system, the perfect spot for a murder. I once again set out, limping with pain. The cold blood that formerly resided in my veins now ran like ice down my back. I grabbed a few painkillers from my supplies. I gulped them down, the pills would ease the pain. I left the corridor, along with the two forgotten bodies. I once again started my marching gait as soon as the painkillers set in, the numbing sensation had also seemed to make my head lighter. I almost felt invincible. This only lasted for a few seconds, I traced the feeling to perhaps one too many shots to the skull. The feeling overwhelmed for a brief time but I always managed to come back. I marched, this time with more enthusiasm, in cold blood, in constant fear, without regulations, without Remorse.......... 


	2. Chapter 2

The shining silver projectile sent a mirage of the scientists quivering face before it tore through his flesh and body tissue and formed an uneven gash in his face, shattering his glasses. Shards of glass flew through the air landing on the floor beside his lifeless body in a pool of his very own blood. I don't know why I did it; it just had to be done. A feeling of great power spread through me, I was playing God. I knew that those lives were not mine to take, but in my eyes, they had to be taken. I tossed the clip of my assault rifle on the floor and carefully slinked out of the room full of dead men in white lab coats dyed red through the ghastly crimson liquid that flowed through their veins. Taking life had become second nature; at first it had seemed so challenging, so morally wrong. But now it seemed like something I would do everyday like think or breathing, neither of which I would be doing if I let one man that crossed me get away. I couldn't risk death, but then again, I hated life… Once again I staggered through the dark hallways, the ominous rooms that were Black Mesa. I didn't know what I was doing here, it seemed like I was just sent to kill. It's funny when you look at your wretch of a life and see that all these years it's been meaningless. As I slowed down through the hallways, I saw an unmistakable trail of smoke. Cigarette smoke to be exact. I followed the faint trail intently until I had reached the source of it, a tall lanky figure with a pasty complexion, hollowed out eyes and a look of pure fear on his face. The cigarette sat limply in his mouth and the smoke in the air hovered darkly over head. He knew he could do nothing, he was help less, useless, call him what you might but in any case he couldn't move, his hand wavered close by his belt holster but his hands never made it. He just sat in awe staring mindlessly at me. The cigarette fell out of his mouth as drops of his cold sweat trickled down his brow onto the floor. I would make this quick and painless. Where the cigarette had been, the barrel of my M- 16 was placed. His eyes seemed to roll back into his head as he bit down on the barrel. I pulled the trigger watching as his brain tissue was splattered against the wall he was facing and his face was unidentifiable. His dark blue helmet concealed his head, and all the blood that flowed freely from it. I turned over his body, checking for anything useful he might have had. In his right pocket I had found his pack of Marlboros, the pack that had killed him. This just proved that smoking was hazardous to your health. In his left pocket laid a keycard. One of value no doubt. I pocketed it and was on my way, facing the large mechanical door that my keycard would aid me with in opening. I walked to the door, a bit hesitant. I felt uneasy, in a few seconds I learned why. As I slid the keycard in, the glass of the door shattered, small pieces of glass spraying everywhere. The glass had torn right into my skin and into my older wounds. Blood once again flowed freely out of my body. The bullets richoted all around me off the walls of thick metal. I could see the defining muzzle flashes of my attackers, but everything else of their appearance was disguised by the darkness. I extended a bloody hand to where my rifle had fallen, trying to find refuge from the gunfire. A piercing piece of glass was stuck in my trigger finger but it had not stopped me from the task at hand. I blindly sprayed the room with bullets, the recoil of my rifle banging against my bloody shoulder. I could feel all the cuts and scrapes in my body, the glass embedded deep into my skin, paining me every time I moved. I stumbled, trying to get to my feet as I continued firing. I half crawled past the door, my rifle stacked upon my shoulder, never ceasing to fire. My discarded projectiles forming a trail behind me. I had almost made it to cover as I heard a disheartening noise. The impassive clicks of my empty weapon. I fell to the ground with a loud thump. I was done for, it was over. I tried to clear my mind and let my eyes roll back into my head not much unlike the man in blue I had capped earlier. I abandoned all hope of escape, only inches away from freedom, I was going to die. Everything went pitch black, I was out cold. Out from fear, from stress, from pain, from death… 


	3. Chapter 3

The long silver blade cut into me as I awoke, I felt the metal prying into me as I hung there, helpless. My eyes sat in a distant daze as my mind focused on the masked figure looming over me, a long knife which I recognized as a machete, the grip of the knife in a tight hold. I stared at the pool of blood forming at my feet, my own blood. My arms were suspended with chains high above my head. At this point I was invalid, not able to do anything for myself, only hoping I could survive this brutal onslaught. The machete still feasting on my flesh and blood, sticking awkwardly out of my side, my torturer spoke." I will ask you again, what are you doing here?" My memory was all a blur as my vision began to fade. Without a second thought I spat in the face of the assassin. I had spat in the face of death with no fear. As he released the blade once more, ready for another deep thrust, an explosion sounded, a strange quake shook the floor as he lost his balance and fell to the hard, cold concrete, instantly unconscious. I didn't know where I was, why I was captured nor why I was being interrogated, the only thing I knew for sure was that Lady Luck had smiled upon me. The chains tightly bound me as the coil of a thousand snakes, suddenly I realized it was hopeless as another tremor shook the ground, sending the assassin's body tumbling to the other end of the room, crashing into what I thought was a weapons locker. His head jolted at the door as blood ran down his back, the unlocked pad lock falling to the floor with slight distinction. The door had shook open, revealing my M-16 assault rifle in all its glory, I had never been happier to lay my eyes on a gun. I struggled with my bonds, then, as I had stated before, lady luck had smiled on me, though I never imagined I meant that in a literal sense. A few yards off I heard a strange beeping, as if for an alarm clock. Too bad I didn't think it would bomb, a C-4 to be exact, till it was too late. The next explosion destroyed the door as debris and flame were emitted from where the door had formerly resided, my body shook and I shuddered. Out from the shadows as the smoke cleared, a dark figure somewhat like the one lying seemingly lifeless on the floor approached me. It was a woman; similar to the one I had brutally murdered what seemed an eternity ago. She also hid behind a sleek black mask, though through the faint glimpse of her eyes that I received, her submachine gun out thrust in front of her Kevlar protected chest, I didn't see the eyes of a killer, but the eyes of a sad and hopelessly lost girl seeking vengeance. It didn't seem like I should have projected so much from first sight, though I was extremely disoriented at the time. She began her dissent towards me, a flash of silver escaping her pocket as she removed a ring of keys and set me free. She then picked up my rifle and handed it to me as I was struggling to get to my feet. All of my previous wounds still bled and my arms had been sore, though I shouldered the rifle immediately. "Follow me," was all she said as I blindly followed. I was intrigued with her beauty, I had to follow, and after all, she was my only chance of escape. As she led me out of the ghastly room. I had wanted to place a bullet into the head of the bastard on the floor, though I thought better of it and let the mysterious woman in black lead the way as al my open wounds were forgotten which allowed me to last just a bit longer. My painkillers were in their accustomed place though I couldn't stop to pull them out. The woman ran at a quickening pace, I tired to keep up. As she turned a corner, the familiar sound of gunfire fell upon my ears once again. She fired a short burst from her submachine gun before hugging the wall to the left, waiting for the assailants to make the next move. However, I was not this docile. I chose the more aggressive path, to show her what I was made of; I leapt past her into the line of fire, my rifle at the ready. There were only five of them waiting for us. I had managed to unload half of my clip into them; all my shots directed by my laser, catching them right in the heart as each one fell to the floor, dead. Their screams of pain all heard in unison as a thud could be heard when their bodies fell. I grinned in spite of myself. I suppose you could say it was a smile of malice rather than humor; death is often funny enough to laugh at, just one of the things I learned each day. Once again she lead the way, emotionless, though I sensed the slightest of disgust in her. An elevator sat in the distance, innocently waiting for us to escape. Suddenly, the doors swung open revealing at least twenty assassins as they filed out. They had opened fire, she had slipped and had fallen down to her death, if it had not been for me as I dragged her to her feet, and to cover, narrowly escaping a shell being planted in her cranium. She had slid out a radio and quickly relayed a few pleas for backup. "Requesting backup, I repeat, requesting backup." "Backup denied, all units abort mission." "Damn you Stal." she muttered under her breath. It was clear that backup was not coming. I stood to the side of her and made it evident that I was up for it. This was when the civilians were separated from the soldiers, the boys from the men. I had trained all my adult life for this moment and I wouldn't be denied, I would live on. My muscles were tense, as my hands had begun to sweat, my index finger tightly around the trigger. I was as ready and focused as I would ever be. With a nod to her we both waited for the barrage of bullets to momentarily cease in time for them to reload. We waited patiently and were rewarded. At the first indication at an empty gun we rushed out from behind the wall, walking at a steady pace towards them. Our bullets ripped through them, reducing them to nothing more but a pool of blood on wall and a pile of flesh on the floor. Half of them had retreated like the true cowards they were. Yelling in fear as they laid eyes on me, drenched with blood with wounds freely bleeding smothering my body I had been a gruesome sight. My M-79 was ready; it was time to finish the job. With their backs turned I fired a single shell at them, exploding in midair. Their bodies flying in the air, being pushed forward as the flames relentlessly licked at their bodies, now makeshift kindle wood. The fire had spread, turning the small corridor into a flaming inferno. "The Devil's Kitchen…" I though as I looked at the awe inspiring flames and one unlucky assassin that hadn't died, watching as he was burned into nothing but ash and smoke. She entered the elevator, yelling aloud, trying to get me out of the trance I was in. I could either follow her into freedom or stay and die a gruesome and painful death. I chose freedom. I ran into the elevator, taking one final glimpse at the hall just before the sliding doors shut, blocking all light. I looked at her, unable to say anything. I wasn't sure what to do. I had been so weak, I felt drained of all energy. I had lost too much blood, it was getting to me. I was left to the familiar scene of utter darkness and despair……. 


End file.
